


Good Communication

by Duckay, Neffectual



Series: Drunk Dial [3]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bad Sex, Drunk Sex, M/M, Public Sex, Regret, Reluctant Sex, Rimming, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 16:49:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7853212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duckay/pseuds/Duckay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neffectual/pseuds/Neffectual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A side story in the Drunk Dial universe. Seth finds it hard to cope with finding his place in the mess of relationships he's gotten into, and feels like he's done nothing but make an even bigger mess for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Communication

**Author's Note:**

> Please see notes at the end for a description of the potentially concerning tags.

Only a few days after the sexiest night of his life, Seth was embroiled in the most awkward.

“Guys, we should talk.”

The words made him almost cringe as soon as he said them. No one ever said that for good reasons, and he usually prided himself on being wittier than that.

What stung more, though, was the reaction. He had expected, or maybe hoped, that they’d see where it was going and get emotional. Or at least show some sign that they were affected by it. A hitch of breath, a whitening of the knuckles, a waver in the voice. Complete nonchalance both made him feel more certain of what he was about to say, and a little hurt.

“What's wrong?” Jimmy asked, not even looking up at him from where he was idly putting tiny braids into Marek’s long hair as they lay together on Jimmy’s bed, chipped black polish on deft fingers catching the light.

He took a deep breath, but Marek spoke up with a question of his own before he had a chance to answer. “Is this about your roommate?”

The impatience in his voice made Seth seethe a little, as he always did whenever the subject of Dean inevitably came up with Marek. Whether that was because Jimmy had drunkenly decided to suggest adding him to the festivities, or because he caught Seth talking about him or texting him, it was kind of a sore point. They all knew Seth was fucking him on the side, and everyone was ostensibly on board with it since Marek and Jimmy fucked without him all the time and he had urges, but it wasn't exactly a well-kept secret that Marek disapproved of his choice of partner.

“Not - no.” Seth never stumbled over his words, or so he would have told anyone who would listen, so he cursed himself silently for that. He closed his eyes before continuing. Rip it off like a bandaid. “I just think maybe we shouldn't see each other anymore. Like this.”

He opened his eyes, faintly hoping that he would see some sign of emotion over this, and it was a bigger blow to the chest that neither man looked like they cared than it had been when he first realized that he wanted to break things off.

“So it is about your roommate, then.” Marek’s voice was flat, unimpressed, barely emotive. He was looking at Seth like he'd just said that he didn't feel like going out for dinner.

Seth wanted to fire back that it had nothing to do with that. There was a whole list of reasons he could have named, and yet they all died in his throat.

He could have said he wanted to break up because they hadn't even said hello to him when he’d arrived before trying to fuck him.

Or that despite the fact that their relationship was apparently just sex, it wasn't even particularly good sex.

Or that he was tired of the way that Marek rolled his eyes whenever he saw that Seth had been marked up by someone else.

Or that Jimmy and Marek were closer than they’d ever been, and Seth was spending less and less time with them anyway.

What he didn't want to say was that it had everything to do with Dean despite all that. Because he could and did talk to Dean for hours about nothing. That even a half-drunk handjob at three in the morning lit his fire harder than anything he'd gotten from the two of them, at least lately. That Dean knew he fucked other people, and he did too, and the only thing he ever said when he found the signs was affectionate teasing. That he was closer to Dean than anyone else he'd ever met, couldn't imagine anyone ever being closer.

That Dean had shown him without even trying what it would be like to be in a real relationship, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could settle for less.

When he didn't say anything for a long time, Jimmy finally broke the silence. “This has been coming for a long time, I guess.”

“Mm.”

Seth was pretty sure he knew exactly what Marek’s ‘mm’ meant, but he didn't say anything. Neither of them gave him any reason to stay, or even tried to. So what was the point in trying to explain himself? It wouldn't be worth it. He grabbed his jacket and made to leave, only stopping for a moment as his hand touched the door.

“I hope we can stay friends.”

It sounded pathetic to his own ears, and he didn't know why he said it. Just because leaving without saying anything at all would have been too cold, maybe. But they hadn't been friends before and they couldn't exactly be called friends now. Jimmy was just a guy he'd gone home with one night and somehow he'd accidentally never left. He'd always been kidding himself to think he was anything to them other than a better class of fuck-buddy.

Blood thundered in his ears as he walked back to Taylor. He wasn't sure why. When his phone buzzed and he read the text message, he got a slightly better idea.

_Are you in love with him_

_Who?_

_Dean_

He left that unanswered, mostly because he didn't know what to say, or how he felt. A few minutes later, another pair of texts arrived, and that was the biggest gut punch of them all.

_Because he is._

_Be careful._

* * *

 

When he got back to his dorm room, Dean was on his computer working on something with headphones in. He barely reacted to Seth walking in, just waved a hand at him as though to indicate he was on a roll but wanted to acknowledge Seth’s presence. That was fine with Seth. Normally he and Dean told each other everything, but he wouldn't even have begun to figure out how to explain this.

A few minutes later, Dean pulled his headphones off and whirled around to face Seth. “Sorry, man. I meant to say hi.”

“It’s okay. Tired anyway.”

Dean stared at him for a moment, like Seth was another problem that he had to solve, but then he shrugged and put his headphones back on without another word.The sight made Seth’s stomach clench and a heat rise in his face. On the one hand he didn't really want to talk to Dean about it, but that wasn't the point.

“Hey!”

The headphones came off again, and Dean turned around again, looking a little irritated at the disruption. Like Seth was an inconvenience. Like he was unimportant.

“Do you even fucking care?”

That was the wrong approach with Dean, and Seth realized it as soon as the words had fallen from his lips. The heat faded and was replaced with something that felt a little like ice in the pit of his stomach. Dean slowly placed the headphones down on the desk, and stood up, each little movement looking like he was consciously thinking about it. Dean never looked like he thought about his actions, just figuring he'd get there in the end.

“You said you were okay.” Dean was obviously trying to sound casual, but there was a creak in his voice that Seth knew, and hated hearing. He went to say something, but Dean waved it off. “I don't have time for your prissy shit. Either tell me what’s wrong or fuck off.”

Seth was a little afraid that if he breathed in, his breath would catch and Dean would think he was crying. He wasn't sure whether Dean would be right. Parts of his body felt disconnected, his hands limp, his stomach cold, face hot, chest tight. His eyes closed for a second and forced himself to inhale, and when they opened, the tightness was gone, but the coldness remained in full force.

“Don't worry, I'm fucking off.”

“Good. Let Jimmy deal with your shit.”

Seth had started to stand up, but those words felt like a physical blow to his chest and his eyes fluttered closed again. He only opened them when he heard a tinny sound that he recognised as Dean’s headphones. He’d sat back down and cranked up the volume, to drown Seth out.

He stood from the bed and stalked to the door. Yeah. Because he mattered that little. Just someone people fucked. He was that fucking unimportant.

* * *

Obviously he couldn't actually go and spend time with Jimmy like Dean clearly wanted him to, but he also couldn't just go straight back to his room. Clearly neither of them were in the mood for that. Seth realised his breath was coming too quickly, counted backwards from ten in his head and bit his tongue to keep his mouth shut.

By the time he got to the security door, the coldness had been replaced by an emptiness that he couldn't explain. There was nothing that appealed to him to do, so he just walked, trying not to let his mind wander. He fished his phone out of his pocket, scrolling easily down to Marek’s name in the contacts, and let his finger hover over the call button. No point. Wasn’t that the whole point of what had just happened, that he wasn’t supposed to call anymore? He flicked his finger up the names - too few, far too few - and landed on Dean’s name. Fuck. He hated this, hated fighting with Dean, who was always the person he really wanted to call when shit went down, and it was fucked up that the person who could fix all this was the person he’d just walked out on.

Eventually he bought a coffee just for something to do with his hands even though he didn't really want to drink it, and bummed a cigarette from a stranger and smoked it without really inhaling. He thought about maybe calling Roman, number in his phone from after they hooked up, but what the fuck was he going to say to him? ‘Hi, remember watching Dean fuck me?’ Maybe not. He drank the coffee, chilly, not his usual order, something that actually tasted like coffee instead of pure sugar, and flicked through his phone one last time.

“Mom?”

A phone call with his parents wasn’t really the best thing for his mood, but it was comforting to hear someone familiar, even if she did just want to talk about his grades, and whether he was applying himself. She didn’t ask about his roommate, or the fact that he’d been so keen to talk about the guys he’d met when he’d called three weeks ago, didn’t care, maybe, or just didn’t want to know about it. When she hung up, he wasn’t sure if he felt any less vulnerable, or less shaken, but at least it had killed some time, and his pride wouldn’t be too damaged if he went back after a couple of hours had passed, it wouldn’t look like he had no one else to go to. No matter how true that was.

When the door opened, Dean spun around in his chair so fast that he nearly fell over. Neither Seth nor Dean said anything, but Dean beckoned him closer silently and wrapped his arms around his waist. That was Dean for “sorry I snapped at you.”

Seth leaned into the embrace, kissing the top of Dean’s head. That was Seth for “sorry I said you didn't care”.

The hollow feeling inside him felt like it was filling with Dean’s warmth and closeness, and for what could have been hours he just let Dean hold him. He didn't realize that he was crying until he heard Dean vocalise for the first time since he got back, just a soft shushing sound as he rubbed Seth’s back.

He didn’t realize _why_ he was crying until Dean pulled back and wiped one of the tears from Seth’s cheek with his thumb, and he felt something lurch in his stomach. The weight of feeling in Dean’s eyes was too much to look at so he leaned forward and kissed him instead.

He had no idea how to cope with being in love with his best friend.

When Dean pulled back from the kiss, he wrinkled his nose and swatted at Seth’s hip with one hand, and the indignant look in his eye actually made Seth laugh, although still a little wetly.

“You’ve been fucking smoking.”

Seth swatted back at Dean without saying anything on the subject, but he went to go lay down in his bed even as Dean’s hand tried to curl around his hip to keep him close. He could feel, more than see, Dean's eyes following him to the bed and was pretty sure he knew what Dean was going to say before he heard the inhale of breath.

“Do you need to go get drunk tonight?”

“Nah,” Seth said easily, though his heart had started pounding a little harder at the thought of dealing with this influx, or possibly realisation, of feelings while under the influence of alcohol. The idea of accidentally blurting out something friendship-ruining made him feel sick.

Dean shrugged and kept looking at him for a moment before turning back to his computer.

* * *

A week later, in many ways it seemed like things had gone back to normal. They’d laughed it off, that night, kissed, fucked, and talked about almost every topic under the sun except the matter of why Seth had been in such a bad mood and the resultant argument. Still, there was a feeling in the pit of Seth’s stomach that wouldn't shift, and if Dean noticed anything, if he saw the way that Seth had been finding it a little harder to meet his eye, that he'd gone back to his own bed immediately and declined a cuddle for once, he hadn't said anything. Since then, there’d been a few blowjobs and some other shit, but Seth was pretty sure Dean had worked out that he was avoiding sex; avoiding letting Dean in like that, afraid of what he might say or do when in that position again. It was much easier not to say anything when his mouth was full.

More than anything else, feeling this way was eating Seth up because it was Dean, of all people. Normally if he was struggling with something he would complain to Dean about it and, well, Dean wasn't very good at problem-solving even if he thought he was, but it was nice to be able to get it out there. He wasn't quite sure why he hadn't even told Dean about the breakup, except that it was too tied up in everything else that he was feeling and he wasn't sure he could bring up one without letting the other slip out. If he told Dean about breaking up with Jimmy and Marek, he’d have to tell him why, and ‘emotionless sex doesn’t really do it for me anymore’ wasn’t exactly the best thing he could think of to say to the guy he was meant to be having no-strings sex with on a regular basis.

In the middle of a boring class that he was completely failing to absorb, Seth found himself doodling idly instead of making notes, just random spirals and curves of shapes, nothing fancy. He was sort of surprised Dean wasn’t pushing for sex - maybe he was wrong, and Dean hadn’t noticed that Seth was getting him off with his hand or mouth instead of offering anything more, or maybe he just didn’t care. Maybe he was out having sex all the time he wasn’t in the room, and Seth was just a stop-gap for when he couldn’t be bothered to hook up. His notebook became more angry swirls, pen nearly pushing through the paper as he thought about how Dean never asked him to stay in the bed with him, never tried to pull him close, never asked him what was the matter. And that was great, that was fine - they were just fucking, after all, not dating. No matter what Seth thought he might want. After mulling it over for a second, pen between his teeth, Seth pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed a quick message to Jimmy Jacobs.

_Drinks tonight?_

After ten minutes of no reply he considered that maybe he should have thought a little longer and harder before doing that and he considered pulling his phone out again to cancel, to tell him that he'd changed his mind or was busy or had meant to message someone else in the first place, but he forced himself to concentrate on the lecture rather than think about it.

His phone vibrated in his pocket just as he was walking out, and he grabbed at it a little more frantically than he’d intended to. Seth wasn't fearing a no so much as he was afraid that he'd be mocked for asking or that Jimmy would take it as meaning something more than it was intended.

Three hours later, they were pressed together in some corner of a club, gasping against each other’s mouths. Seth slopped some of his drink down Jimmy’s back as his hips thrust forward against him, but he didn't seem to care. If anything, he seemed to kind of like the idea that he'd thrown Seth off balance, and had pulled Seth’s lower lip into his mouth a little more eagerly.

When Seth pulled back, it was just to drain the rest of the liquid from his glass, their bodies still pressed tightly together from the chest down. Jimmy was kissing him again before he was sure he'd even finished swallowing. Through the drunken haze and building lust, Seth was aware that this wasn't really what he'd intended to happen, but if he was really honest with himself, it also was. A part of him had really sincerely meant to talk about his problems with Dean to someone who’d at least have a vague idea what he was talking about, but a bigger part of him knew that this was always what happened when he drank around Jimmy. Or saw Jimmy ever, for that matter. And knowing that, he had still texted him to come out for drinks, because that part of him was still kind of thinking that maybe this would prove that whatever he felt for Dean, it wasn't love, and it certainly wasn't mutual.

The reflection was cut short when he felt a hand slide down to his ass and Jimmy’s weight pushing him harder into the wall as his mouth was _devoured_ and all he could think about was that whatever his brain had decided to think or feel about Dean, he needed to get fucked. Immediately, if not sooner.

“Your place?” Seth managed to pant out as he pulled back for breath.

Jimmy shook his head no. “Marek. Yours?”

“Uh-uh. Dean. Fuck.”

Jimmy leaned forward to kiss him again, but Seth tilted his head away, pushing against Jimmy’s shoulders to put a little distance between them. His ex-boyfriend didn't look any happier with that than Seth felt doing it, but, what other choice was there? There was only so long they could basically dry hump against a wall in a club before it would become a real issue and if they both knew that they couldn't go back to either of their dorm rooms, there was nothing to be done except, well, dry hump in public.

After a moment of thoughtful, if faintly desperate and frustrated silence, Jimmy ventured, “You’re sure Dean would -”

It wasn’t the first time that Jimmy had ever obliquely suggested that he wasn’t averse to the idea of Dean being involved in their sex life. In fact, it was positively subtle by his standards. And normally, even though Seth knew that Dean was uninterested in anything more than flirting and maybe a bit of drunken grinding with Jimmy, he was fairly prepared to play along with the idea as a ‘maybe one day’. Now, though, with everything that had been going on, even the idea of Dean _knowing_ what he was doing, much less witnessing it or being involved, made his stomach clench, and so his reply came with rather more venom than he had intended.

“Yeah. Out of the question.”

Seth could still feel a thick hardness pressing insistently against his thigh, even though things had cooled down for the moment, and he realized as he met Jimmy’s eye again that he wasn’t sure he could actually stand it if they had to call the night off now. He leaned in for another kiss, partly to give himself time to think and partly so he didn’t have to see how offended Jimmy looked at having been snapped at, and considered his options. Someone jostled them against the wall, though Seth couldn’t tell if it was a deliberate attempt to disrupt the public display of affection or just because the room was a bit crowded. Either way, it helped him make up his mind, and he led Jimmy out of the club without explaining his intentions.

Fifteen minutes later he was straddling Jimmy’s lap in the backseat of his car, tugging his shirt over his head and trying not to slam either his skull or his arms into the car roof as he felt the other man’s hands grab at his body seemingly at random - hands sliding over his stomach, hips, thighs, with no apparent pattern. Once his shirt had been thrown into the front seat, he felt his lover shift under him, hard cock grinding against his ass still separated by the two layers of denim, as Jimmy’s mouth sought every inch of the exposed flesh. Seth rolled his hips at the sensation, and felt rather than heard the appreciation that earned.

There was really no way for two men of their size to make fucking in the back of a car comfortable, but Seth was just drunk enough to still think it was a good idea, and if the way Jimmy was rutting up against him meant anything, he was pretty on board with the idea too. Besides, Seth was flexible, and drunk Seth could be persuaded to bend into any sort of shape if it was going to get him a good dicking. He wriggled away from Jimmy, prompting a whine of complaint and a gentle bite to his shoulder as he settled down next to him, kicking his shoes off and hands going straight to his fly.

“Pants off,” he muttered, and Jimmy made a noise that was far more pleased at the proceedings than the previous one. “Need you to open me up.”

They’d done this before, at least, and as Seth wriggled his jeans off his hips, careful to avoid planting his feet on any of the debris Dean tended to leave scattered around his car, he shuddered at the memory. Dean. No. He didn’t want to think about Dean. Jeans off, and no underwear to make anything any more complicated, and he shuffled over, body wedged between the front seats and over the centre console, bracing himself on the dashboard. He pushed his head down and hips up, in case Jimmy could fail to get the message.

He didn’t, turning a lewd moan into a muffled sound as he buried his face between Seth’s ass cheeks and nuzzled, making Seth squirm at the sensation of beard fuzz against sensitive skin. He moaned, before biting gently into his own wrist to quiet the sound. He hadn’t exactly parked somewhere out of view, and while the saving grace was that he wasn’t directly below a streetlight, it would still be pretty easy for passers-by to look through the windows and see what they were doing. He just had to hope no one was curious about the beat-up old station wagon with the fogged windows.

Leaning forward a little more, Seth moaned as Jimmy flicked his tongue over Seth’s hole, then abandoned all pretence at slow and careful and just went in deep, tongue fucking him as best he could while Seth tried to relax into it. They’d done a lot of this in the last year, Seth getting rimmed open in bathrooms and, on one memorable occasion, in a hedge near one of the campus buildings, late at night. Jimmy had a skilled tongue for more than just talking, and Seth loved it when Jimmy used it to open him up, get him wet and slick and ready, liked it when Jimmy kept going until he was nearly sobbing with over-stimulation, until he was pleading for someone to just fuck him already.

Jimmy didn’t bother with that, this time, just shoved his tongue in messily, licking around Seth’s rim before pulling back to spit on his fingers and start Seth off with two, hard work, especially considering he’d been avoiding sex with Dean recently. Seth pushed that thought out of his head and just tried to arch into the stretch and burn of Jimmy’s fingers, tried to think how good it would feel when Jimmy finally started fucking him, how good the sex had always been between the two of them, even if… even if there hadn’t been anything else to it.

The fingers pulled out of him just as suddenly as they'd entered, and it wasn't long before he felt the press of Jimmy’s hard cock pushing into him. He could feel the bunched denim against his thighs; plainly, Jimmy had only pulled his jeans down as far as he needed to in order to get down to business.

Only once Jimmy’s full length was in him did Seth wonder, dimly, if he should have asked him to use protection. They hadn't used condoms together for some time, and he was pretty sure neither of them had fucked anyone new since the breakup, but not even thinking about it was probably a bad habit to get into. Seth tried to put this thought, too, out of his mind, as he braced with one arm against the dashboard and pushed his hips back, rocking to find the rhythm that he liked. The soft sound that this pulled out of Jimmy spurred him on and he repeated the action, a little harder.

“You're such a filthy little slut, aren't you?” Jimmy whispered from behind him, fingers of one hand digging into Seth’s hip. Seth had to bite his lower lip at the sound to keep himself quiet - not because he was afraid he was going to moan or cry out, but because he was afraid he was going to have to tell Jimmy to shut up.

Dean said stuff like that in the heat of the moment, too, but it felt different, somehow. Made him feel hot and desired, not just kind of dirty.

Seth closed his eyes at that thought, but before he could try again to lose himself in the moment he felt the hot spurt of Jimmy’s orgasm inside him. Already. Seth didn't feel remotely close, and was starting to debate whether he should even bother trying to jerk himself off when he felt Jimmy pull out of him and heard him fumbling to pull his jeans back up.

He wriggled back into the backseat proper once he felt like there was room for him to move, and glanced over at Jimmy. Was he going to offer to help finish him off? Judging from the sort of distant, distracted look on his face, probably not. Surely he couldn't have not noticed, so Seth had to assume that he just didn't care enough. Yeah. That felt about how he’d expected.

Just as Seth was considering telling him to get out of his car, he startled a little at the feeling of Jimmy’s fingers teasing into the hair at the back of his head. It was a tender, almost sweet gesture, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt Jimmy do something like that for him. Couldn’t remember if it had ever happened before, for that matter. It felt good, like being wanted, needed, felt like being important.

“Seth, you know what you’ve got with him. Don’t fuck it up.”

Then, quickly as it had started, the tenderness was gone, and Jimmy’s hand was on the door handle instead. He was halfway down the street before Seth felt comfortable enough to move, fumbling for his jeans and cringing a little at the feeling of semen leaking out of him as he pulled them back on slowly. His face was still coloured from a mixture of alcohol and shame, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself; quite apart from not wanting to risk a DUI, he didn’t know if he could stand seeing Dean after what he’d just done.

Eventually he dragged himself out of the car to stretch his legs, still not wearing his shirt or shoes, staring down at his phone moodily. He could just wait alone in the car until he was sober enough to drive, but that didn't seem like a productive use of his time. And where would he go? Back to his own room? Dean would probably still be awake, or at least dozing lightly enough that he'd be easily disturbed. What would he even say to him?

There was one other option that came to mind. It was a long shot, because they'd never really talked, but then again… He had a history of taking care of unfortunate drunks, didn't he?

Seth flicked the messages app open and found Roman’s name in his contacts. He'd grabbed the number from Dean’s phone, but hadn't actually used it for anything. Would it be too forward, too creepy? Fuck it. Only one way to find out.

He tapped out a message and hesitated only a second before sending it. He wasn't really expecting a reply - Roman was probably asleep, and even if he was up, he wouldn't want to do a favour for Seth, would he? They weren’t anything to each other, aside from ‘hey, about that threesome we once had - ‘ and that wasn’t exactly setting a precedent for being buddies.

There was nothing left to do except climb back in the car. The chill in the air was becoming too much of a problem without a shirt on, and he didn't really expect Roman to get back to him.

As he was pulling the shirt over his head, the phone rang, making Seth jump almost out of his skin. Dean checking on him…?

No. Roman. Why he had called instead of texting was baffling, but Seth felt a surge of gratefulness all the same.

“Hey,” he murmured. His voice sounded a little weaker than he'd expected, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Roman?”

“Are you okay, Seth?”

Seth laughed, though not very sincerely. “I'm fine. I just… I drove here and had too many…” His voice faltered before he could explain any further. What else could he say? Jimmy was clearly walking back by himself so it wasn't like Seth couldn't do the same if he really wanted to. And he couldn't just come out and tell Roman why he didn't want to go back to his own dorm. Not over the phone. Probably not at all.

“I'll come get you.”

No questions asked. That was definitely a surprise. Was Roman the nicest guy in the world, or was he just really keen for a late night fuck? The whole thing screamed booty call. No one just called their roommate’s boyfriend in the middle of the night for a ride home. Especially not if they'd fucked before, and while he guessed they hadn't technically fucked, it was close enough. Yeah, saying he was too drunk to drive when Roman knew full well he was within easy walking distance of his room… Seth realised he may as well have just texted ‘wanna bang?’ and saved himself the trouble.

“Thank you,” Seth murmured softly into his phone, cradling it close.

He slipped his shoes back on awkwardly as the call ended. He wasn't sure how long it would take Roman to get there, and didn't want to keep him waiting for anything once he arrived.

It wasn’t as long as he expected before Roman was tapping on the window, sending Seth’s heart up into his throat. He sat up from where he was sprawled across the backseat, opening the door slowly, and affecting a little smile.

“Thanks for coming to help,” he began, but Roman reached out to take him by the hand and help him to his feet before he could say anything more. Seth stood slowly, with a little bit more of the large man’s help than he probably really needed.

“Don't even worry about it. Is there anything you need tonight? I'll bring you back to pick up your car in the morning.”

So Roman was definitely assuming they were spending the night together. That wasn't a surprise, but it was nice to have it confirmed immediately.

On the way back to campus in Roman’s car, Seth expected to have to field a bunch of questions about what he was doing and why he'd texted Roman, of all people, to come help. In fact, the only question Roman asked was where they were going, if Seth wanted to be taken back to his own dorm, but when Seth silently shook his head, Roman dropped the subject. They chatted, a little, but not about anything of substance. Seth was sure that he must have looked like a wreck, but Roman hadn’t commented on it, just rested a hand just above Seth’s knee while they drove, squeezing gently. The touch made him very aware that he hadn't been able to come with Jimmy, but his stomach still felt knotted and he felt more resolved than eager about the idea of going to bed with Roman.

* * *

Once they were in Roman’s room, Seth became very aware that Roman was looking at him expectantly. Unfortunately there was a matter that had been weighing on his mind, so rather than suggestive or grateful, Seth was very aware that his voice sounded rather soft and almost pleading when he spoke.

“Can I have a shower before - before anything else?”

Roman had agreed without even thinking about it for a moment or questioning it, which was nice. Seth wasn't sure exactly where he stood with Roman, what their relationship was - wasn't sure really what Roman and Dean’s relationship was, even - but Roman was certainly working to put him at ease. It was a pleasant feeling.

Seth spent a little longer in the shower than he probably really needed to. Apart from wanting to clean off the physical traces of the car sex, he wanted to do something to calm the vague sense of disgust with himself. Not that he was upset about having sought Jimmy out for sex, because it wasn't like it was the first time he'd done that, but he'd had such awkward, unsatisfying sex with an ex, a recent ex, and for what? Not because he wanted him or missed him, but because he was so unable to face up to the idea that he might have real feelings for someone else. That made his skin crawl.

Unable to face putting his stained jeans back on, Seth padded out of the bathroom wrapped in Roman’s towel. Roman was waiting for him, or so it seemed, still fully dressed, and he was holding something.

“I don't know if this is weird,” Roman began, just a tiny hint of a smile playing at his full lips, “but I figured it’d be nice for you to have something clean to sleep in and I think Dean left these here?”

He tossed something in Seth’s direction, and Seth laughed, genuinely, at the realisation. Of course Dean had left his boxers behind when he'd spent the night with Roman, it was such a Dean thing to do. Seth wasn't really sure why he was being given them to sleep in, but he slipped them on anyway.

“You can have one of my sweatshirts too, if you want,” Roman added, and Seth was probably fine sleeping just in Dean’s boxers, but the idea of being wrapped up warmly in something of Roman’s too was pretty appealing, so he nodded and caught the offered sweatshirt in the air.

There was something strange in the air between them, a tension Seth couldn't put words to. Roman seemed more interested in putting more clothes on him than enjoying his slightly damp nudity, but then again, he'd also made it plainly apparent that he expected Seth would spend the night in his bed with him. And he was definitely looking at Seth appreciatively, and had put his hand on his thigh in the car, so he didn't seem uninterested. He just… wasn't making a move.

Seth looked at the spare bed in the room, no sheets or blankets, and covered in notes and textbooks, like Roman was using it as a second desk. He headed towards it, but Roman took him gently by the shoulder and turned him towards the made-up bed, Roman’s bed. Seth heard himself make a quizzical noise, and wished he could have stopped himself, but Roman just moved closer and dropped a kiss on the top of his head, before he stepped away and gave Seth more space.

“C’mon, bed,” he murmured, and started pulling his own clothes off. Seth was confused, didn’t know what Roman was doing getting undressed when he’d just dressed Seth, why they were going to sleep together if they weren’t going to… well, sleep together.

A memory sparked in Seth’s mind, though, of what Dean had told him about his first night with Roman. Maybe Roman was just about morning sex, or not messing around with drunk people. Even though Seth could barely feel the buzz anymore, he couldn't fault the idea.

Either way, the bed looked pretty inviting, and Seth was starting to get tired, so he made to climb in. When this didn't provoke any kind of negative reaction, he slipped under the covers and beckoned for Roman to join him. Roman crawled in next to him, and wrapped an arm around his small shoulders. It felt like the two of them only just fit, so he had no idea how Dean and Roman had managed it, but he was fairly accustomed to sharing small beds, so he just curled up like he was planning to burrow into Roman’s chest and stay there.

Roman didn’t say anything else, just stroked his hair softly as Seth felt sleep start to overtake him. Maybe, he thought, he’d feel better after a good night’s sleep. He tried not to think about texting Dean to let him know where he was. It wasn’t like this would be the first night Seth stayed out, and Dean probably wouldn’t have even noticed he wasn’t there, too busy enjoying either the peace of an empty room, or someone else’s company. He swallowed back that thought and nuzzled closer to Roman. Yeah. In the morning, everything would be better.

* * *

Waking up the next morning with Roman curled around him felt like a kick to the chest for Seth. Everything he’d done the night before with Jimmy crashed into his skull in glorious technicolour, and he wanted to be sick. He wasn’t sure how he’d become this desperate, this needy for some affection that he was willing to crawl into the back of his car with a guy for whom it had always been about sex, nothing more, and try to pretend he was getting something out of it. Sure, Seth had always liked sex with Jimmy and Marek, until he realised it really hadn’t been all that great, and that Dean met his needs much better. Just because Marek and Jimmy had more ideas on positions and kinky things to try, didn’t mean the sex was actually any more enjoyable. Half time they’d been so focused on their newest idea and each other that they’d barely bothered to get him off after they’d both come. Whereas Dean would normally make him come at least twice for every orgasm Seth wrung out of him.

Dean. If that wasn’t the point, Seth didn’t know what was - Dean had become everything in the last few days. Weeks. Months. If he was being honest with himself, he could admit that Dean had always been the better boyfriend, just lacked the title and the level of commitment. Right now, Seth wasn’t sure how he could voice that sort of thing to Dean without being laughed at. The very idea of it, Seth wanting to settle down and stop sleeping around; he had a reputation as a slut for a reason, and he didn’t think Dean would believe him if he said he wanted to try monogamy. Besides, Dean had Roman, and Seth wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Dean would pick him over his newest and most gorgeous conquest. Especially considering how sweet Roman seemed, in stark contrast to Seth’s sharp tongue and mean nature.

Roman, who would expect something from him for being nice last night. Seth tried to relax his body and fake sleep a little longer, trying to put off the inevitable, when Roman would wake up properly and want sex. He wished he’d slept in the back of his car, wished he’d headed back to the dorm and just ignored Dean all night, wished he’d done anything other than call up his roomie’s boyfriend - probably, if Dean even did labels like “boyfriend” - and crawled into bed with him. Roman had to know his reputation, and even if he didn’t, the last time he’d seen Seth, he’d been watching Dean fuck Seth through the mattress before taking his own turn at Dean. Faking a headache probably wasn’t going to get him out of at least a morning blowjob, though even the thought of that left Seth feeling like someone had replaced all his internal organs with lead. Well, he thought, no time like the present.

As he slid down the bed a little and his fingers played at the waistband of the boxers Roman had worn to bed, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and then a hand pulling him up and away, rather than pushing him down like he expected.

“What’re you doing, Seth?” Roman asked, and his voice sounded fond, exasperated, coloured with something like affection, and Seth wanted to scream, because that wasn’t for him, that wasn’t the sort of thing he was supposed to hear.

“If you can’t work that out, maybe I need to get Dean to draw you some diagrams,” he rasped out, before he swallowed, hard, and tried again, “I figured I owed you one.”

One of Roman’s big hands cradled the back of his head, and the other looped under his arm and pulled him gently up the bed, until his head was resting on Roman’s chest, rather than his thigh.

“That’s not - “ Roman began, but Seth couldn’t bear to hear it, couldn’t cope with the idea of not being wanted.

“What, nipples first, big guy? That what you like, huh, that get you off?” Seth could hear the desperation in his own voice, trying to block out the idea that Roman might not accept even physical contact from him, that he was such a slut that people were going to start turning him down. “I can do that, I can - “

He was silenced by Roman pulling him up for a kiss, one Seth went into willingly, ready to make it as dirty and lustful as possible, but instead, Roman kept it slow, affectionate, hand on the back of Seth’s neck a comforting weight, something that felt almost familiar.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Roman said, when he broke the kiss, and Seth tucked his head up against the larger man’s shoulder, against his better judgement. “Seth, I don’t know what happened last night, and you don’t have to tell me, but maybe you should talk to Dean about it.”

“Dean,” Seth laughed, bitterly, “What is it with everyone and telling me to talk to Dean lately? You all think we don’t spend enough time together, you don’t think all we do is talk? But no, all we do is fuck, right, because that’s just the sort of guy I am?”

He only realised he was shouting, struggling away from Roman’s body when he fell out of the bed, landing on the floor in a heap, the blankets following him, pooling at his feet and leaving Roman uncovered in the bed, looking down at him.

“Seth - “ Roman began, but Seth wasn’t in the mood to hear pity from anyone.

“I hope the two of you are really happy,” he spat, trying to untangle his legs from the blankets and failing. “Just give me a wedding invitation, because clearly - “

Roman had obviously grown tired of listening to him rant from the floor, because he stood, quickly, and in one sudden movement, had Seth, still wrapped in the blankets, back on the bed and in his arms. Seth drew in a breath to complain, but Roman shook his head.

“Look,” Roman started, voice soft, like his arms weren’t holding Seth close, “Dean and I aren’t running off and into anything without you. I don’t think either of us have any interest in that.”

Seth opened his mouth, but closed it again as Roman’s hand stroked his hair softly.

“I’m assuming something happened, either with Dean or with those other two guys you’re seeing, and I don’t know what, and you’re scaring the hell out of me,” Roman said, gently, without any judgement in his tone. “But just because I’m not about to demand sex when you’re clearly not in the mood… really doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”

He smiled, a wry little motion that made Seth feel guilty and worthless.

“Not seeing them anymore,” he said, keeping his voice as small and quiet as he could, letting himself give in to the urge to curl against Roman’s body.

“Aw shit,” Roman muttered, pulling Seth closer, “You wanna talk about it, or…?”

Seth shook his head. What was there to talk about? They hadn’t really cared about him, and no one ever really would, so what was there to say?

“Okay. You told Dean?”

Another shake of Seth’s head, this one a little smaller, like he thought he might get away without Roman noticing the motion.

“Oh, Seth.” Roman’s voice held so much in it that Seth couldn’t unpick, couldn’t cope with, and instead he lifted his head and crashed his mouth to Roman’s, hoping he was communicating everything; his fear, his desperation, how alone he felt without the casual knowledge that Marek and Jimmy had his back. Roman made a tiny, irritated noise before kissing back, hands fighting their way through the blanket cocoon and underneath the overlarge sweater Seth had slept in. There, instead of anything Seth might have expected, they just stroked gently over the skin at his hips, a warm and comforting presence. It was too much for Seth, and he pulled away, Roman letting go easily.

“I need to get back,” he lied. It was still early, but Roman had the good sense not to argue.

“Alright,” Roman said, easily, “You want me to walk you back to your car? Drive you?”

“No.” Seth shook his head, and started to get dressed, turning his back to Roman to peel off the sweatshirt and slip his own shirt back on. He looked at the sweater again. “Mind if I borrow this?”

“Go right ahead,” Roman said, and his smile wasn’t entirely unwelcome, “Just make sure it gets back to me sometime, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Seth said, and felt his own mouth move into a smile, even though he didn’t feel that happy about anything, “I’ll do that.” He toed his shoes on, and patted his pockets for his wallet, phone and car keys. Assured they were all there, he turned to say goodbye to Roman, and was surprised to find him right there, too close.

“Thanks,” Roman said, and leaned down to kiss him. It was little more than a soft press of lips, but for the first time that morning, Seth wanted more, opening his mouth and letting Roman draw him nearer, a pleased noise in his throat at Roman’s big hand on his waist and the feel of Roman against him. When he pulled away, he felt warmer, calmer than before, almost ready to face the day. “Say hi to Dean for me.”

With that, a bucket of ice water extinguished any good feeling Seth was having, and he felt his face shut down, all emotion shuttering away, and heard Roman’s bitten-off curse word.

“Sure,” he said, turning his back on Roman and opening the door, “I’ll pass on the message.” When the door to Roman’s room slammed shut behind him, he couldn’t bring himself to care about anyone else on the same floor who might be sleeping. He felt numb, with only a burn of hurt at his core as he headed out into the early morning. Say hi to Dean. Because that was all he was good for.

* * *

The walk back from Roman’s dorm to his car was bracing, even with the warmth of Roman’s sweatshirt encasing him. Somehow it didn’t feel as warm as it had before, some of the heat surely taken out because he wasn’t sure where he stood with Roman. It had been a long time since Seth had slept in the same bed with someone other than Dean as something other than a precursor to or after sex. It didn’t matter about the chill of the wind, though, because the rising burn of anger was enough to keep him warm.

Nevertheless, it was late enough in the morning that the coffee shops were starting to open, so he dipped into the nearest Starbucks and got himself a latte, fuck a nice coffee, passing it from hand to hand to stop the flimsy card of the cup from burning his fingers too much. It tasted like disappointment, but he pretty much figured anything would, with the taste of leftover alcohol and Roman’s kiss on his mouth. He wouldn’t have minded something about a million times sweeter, but when he was sulking, a latte helped the process along nicely, usually, as a form of self-punishment. By the time he was back at his car, the cup was half empty, and he juggled it awkwardly as he opened the door. His foot slipped off the kerb and the coffee went with it, throwing the lukewarm misery disguised as coffee down him, and he made a hollow, empty sound that perfectly encapsulated how he felt inside. Thank fuck it was still early enough that there was barely anyone around.

The paper cup bounced into the gutter. Seth stared down at it in disgust until he felt the hot tears pricking at his eyes and he clambered into the driver’s seat, trying to blink them away. There was no need for that. The coffee wasn't even nice, it wasn't like he'd miss it. The sweatshirt, Roman’s _fucking_ sweatshirt, he’d fucked up something that wasn't even his, clung to his body. He thought about ripping it off so at least he wouldn't smell like cold coffee and sour milk later, but the thought dully landed in his mind that it was probably better that he leave it there, an outward sign of what a mess he was.

He was only faintly aware of turning the key in the ignition and pulling out of the parking space. Too much of his brain was wrapped up in something else, everything else, to focus, to care.

Of fucking course, of course his instincts would take over enough to keep him safe on the drive home and then it would turn out that the primadonna from next door had forgotten how to park in the fucking lines again and wasn’t that just a fucking brilliant way to end a wonderful morning. Seth cringed as he heard the crunch of steel, what he just fucking knew was going to be a dent that he couldn’t afford to fix on the pristine Maserati. He couldn’t find it in his heart to check to see how bad it was. There wasn’t anything he could fucking do about it, anyway. The hot fury threatened to turn into tears again, and all he could do was breathe deeply and avert his eyes as he slunk away. He'd sort it out later, offer to do Breeze’s hair for a week or suck his dick or something. There wasn't enough room in him to think about it now.

As his fingers brushed against the door of his dorm room, his eyes fluttered shut and he sent up a brief prayer, or something like it, to anyone that might be listening. The only thing he wanted to do was curl up and try to go back to sleep. The only way he could do that is if Dean was either not home, or asleep. There was virtually no chance that Dean would be out anywhere at this hour, so…. Please, let him be asleep.

Seth opened his eyes as he pushed the door open, then fell closed again as he swallowed the groan. Of course. It would have been terrible, but at least _straightforward_ if Dean had been awake, which of course meant it couldn't be what actually happened. What the fuck was he doing asleep in Seth’s bed?

Still, there he was and wishing he was somewhere else wouldn't change things. And given that he wasn't in the mood to talk to Dean anyway, he definitely wasn't up to the task of deliberately waking him up to make him move.

He pulled the phone and keys out of his pockets and dumped them rather unceremoniously on the floor next to Dean’s bed. Later he would have a hard time finding them, but that was future Seth’s problem to solve - he didn't have enough fucks left to give right now. A moment later he begrudgingly thought better of it and fumbled for Dean’s phone charger. Quite apart from wanting to know what he’d missed after the battery died, he knew he’d regret it later if it was still flat when he woke up.

It seemed like the biggest chore in the world to lean down and take his shoes off. Like his hands and feet weren’t his, that he was piloting them from afar. A part of him wanted to pretend like the last 24 hours had been just a bad dream, but that was stupid. It was his reality, his stupid mistakes, and ignoring them wouldn’t make it go away. Probably nothing would. Now, it was just a matter of trying to navigate the mistakes once they all came to light. Had Jimmy gone home and told Marek what he had done? How long would it take before Roman told Dean about last night?

His thoughts were interrupted by the loud chime of his message tone. At first, he just stared at his shoes and furiously tried to ignore it, but when that chime was followed by two more in rapid succession, he made a grab for it to flip it to silent, before -

“Seth?” Dean’s voice, thick with sleep, made Seth’s stomach clench for just a moment before he was able to will himself to relax. He glanced over to his roommate, his friend, whatever Dean was to him, and felt the smile tug at his lips. Dean’s eyes were still closed, hair sticking out at odd angles around his face, and Seth’s blanket was bunched up under his arm like a stuffed animal to cuddle.

“Go back to sleep, Deano,” Seth murmured back, his voice soft with an emotion he hadn’t intended to express.

“Y’only call me that when you’re feelin’ guilty,” Dean slurred, clearly still chasing his sleep. Seth’s phone chimed again in his hand, and he flicked it to silent, glancing away from his roomie and down at the screen. The messages kept on pouring in, text after text, with a few missed alls for good measure, hell, even a few on Facebook messenger, as if there was a scenario where he’d have that but no other signal. And all from Dean.

Seth looked back at Dean, who was burrowing under the covers again, nuzzling Seth’s pillow like it was his own, and then checked the messages.

_were you coming home tonight? I thought you were_

_no dramas i just wanted to know if you were gonna wake me up when you crawled in_

The timestamps showed that the next series of messages came about 20 minutes later. By that point, Seth had been at Roman’s, possibly in the shower.

_are you at jimmy & mareks _

_or did you hook up while you were out_

_either way see you in the morning hope your not too hungover_

_msg me when you get this_

There was a half hour gap, there, before any more messages. The rest came in a rush.

_okay look dont be mad but i talked to jimmy on facebook?_

_he said your not there_

_guess you probably hooked up?_

_just let me know_

 

_he said he saw you earlier_

_your cars not in your spot_

_you were drinking_

_you didn’t drive somewhere did you_

 

_seth it’s going straight to voicemail_

_call me as soon as you can_

 

_seth don’t do this_

 

_seth_

He didn’t know what to do with the roll of guilt that coiled through him, how to breathe when he’s been out all night like an asshole and didn’t even think his best friend might be worried about him. No matter what else they were, they were that, at least, and Seth liked to think he wasn’t the sort of douchebag who let people worry. He glanced over from his phone to Dean, expecting to see him asleep again. Instead, Dean was looking at him almost expectantly, a faint hint of bashfulness in his expression. That was something else that was almost too much to cope with, and his eyes slammed shut again, and he dropped the phone to the floor again.

“I shoulda known your phone was just dead,” Dean offered, his tone almost like an apology. There was nothing Seth could think to say to that, so he just didn’t. Then, softly, he heard Dean add, “C’mere.”

He glanced over and saw that Dean had pulled back the blanket and was beckoning Seth closer. That was also something he wasn’t sure he was ready to cope with, but Dean had indulged his neediness more than often enough in the time they’d known each other, and it was virtually impossible to say no to Dean on those occasions when he was not just accepting a cuddle but going into it eagerly.

“Gimme a sec.” He scrambled out of his jeans as quickly as he could, then kicked them into a distant corner, a little harder than he’d meant to. He hesitated just a moment before pulling Roman’s sweatshirt off as well, throwing it onto Dean’s bed so he’d remember to wash it, then his shirt, dropping that to the floor.

Dean wasted no time once Seth had crawled in beside him, pulling him in tight and burying his head in the curve of Seth’s shoulder. Seth felt another pang of guilt as he wrapped his arms around Dean and shuffled to get comfortable beside him; for all that Dean had tried to play it off like he should have known better, it was plain that he still hadn’t quite recovered from the worry. He thought about saying something, maybe to comfort him, or apologise for making him worry, but before he could, he felt a soft kiss press against the side of his neck and the whisper of Dean’s voice.

“You smell like Roman.” It didn’t sound judgemental, exactly, though there was a faint hint of amusement. Seth could feel his body stiffening, a little, and his mouth go dry, but the soft words continued before he could think of any response to that. “And coffee. ‘Snice.”

“I was… he was…,” Seth tried, before giving up. “We didn’t - ”

“Smells good on you,” Dean murmured, sliding his hands down Seth’s sides. “Smells right.”

Seth’s body still felt tense and awkward, but he tried to breathe in slowly and relax into Dean’s touch, the soft stroke as one of his hands slid across his stomach and his fingers traced some unknown shape on his body. His lips pressed against Seth’s throat, then up to his jaw, before one of Dean’s hands slid up to push a lock of hair behind Seth’s ear and Seth saw Dean smile, oddly to himself, in the grey light of the day pushing past the curtains, before he leaned in for a gentle kiss. It was only a fleeting contact, only just enough time for Seth to kiss back, before he felt Dean pull back and laugh quietly in his throat before moving on to press a similarly soft kiss just under Seth’s ear.

Something about the way that Dean was touching him didn’t feel quite right and it made his skin almost vibrate with unsaid words. Seth had been touched by Dean many times before and he could almost believe that there was nothing new to be found between them, but the almost sweet way Dean’s fingers played against his skin was… he’d let Dean worry all night, he’d spent the night with Dean’s boyfriend, of all people, so there was no reason for Dean to be treating him like that. It wasn’t just that it felt unearned, it felt almost cruel, like that Dean knew he didn’t deserve it but was showing it to him anyway, almost taunting him.

Eventually, he could take no more of it, and curled his body away from Dean’s touch. Dean gave him a quizzical sort of look, and Seth forced himself to smile back, though he wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d ended up looking sort of sheepish instead of amused.

“Tickles,” he breathed out, by way of explanation, and dropped his hands from where they were wrapped around Dean to try to guide his friend’s touch into something he felt he could cope with a little better. He wasn’t sure what that was, whether he was trying to tell Dean to let him go or hold him tight, so he just rested his hand on Dean’s wrist, hoping that somehow whatever it was that he wanted would make itself known.

Dean laughed at that, too, though there didn’t seem to be any malice in it. In fact, it sounded almost giddy. The hand that had been so delicately stroking Seth’s stomach dropped a little, and curled firmly around his hip to keep him close. That felt a little better, because it at least felt familiar. The kiss that claimed his mouth felt more like the Dean he knew so well, too, filled with more warm longing than gentle sweetness. For all that Seth wasn’t sure how he felt, how he was supposed to navigate this, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed when it was over.

“So how did he have you, huh?” Dean’s voice was pitched low, probably with lust, and the question somehow managed to achieve both making his stomach clench with fear and burn with need. There was nothing that could be said to that, but it didn’t seem as though Dean was prepared to wait for an answer anyway, because he kept talking, his mouth working on pressing kisses down Seth’s throat in every pause. “I bet he’d want to pin you down, is that right? Gorgeous.”

Seth mumbled something noncommittal, or maybe just made a sound. The comfortable closeness of Dean’s body pressed against his was doing a lot to put him at ease, one of those talents that Dean probably didn’t even know that he had and wouldn’t know what to do with if he did, but his mind was racing even as he felt his body responding eagerly to Dean’s touch. He felt plagued with unanswered questions, and a tension sat deep inside him unaffected by everything he was feeling on the surface. That seemed even more unfair, that in addition to everything else he’d put Dean through he couldn’t even relax and take what was being offered freely to him, so he slid a hand up to the back of Dean’s neck and coaxed him in for another kiss. Perhaps the fire of his mouth would silence the thunder in his mind.

It was softer than he’d expected, given the things Dean had been whispering and the tight grip he had on his hip, as though he was afraid Seth would vanish if let go. They lingered in that moment for what felt like an age, and when they parted for breath there was a light shining in Dean’s eyes.

“Maybe not, though,” he murmured, his mouth drifting to brush against Seth’s earlobe. His voice was light enough, almost teasing, but there was a deep undercurrent to it. “Did you ride him? That’d be so hot.” He punctuated that point by dropping his head down and sinking his teeth, just for a moment, into Seth’s collarbone, then kissing over that same spot.

Not all the heat rising in Seth was lust, though he couldn’t deny that at least part of it was. Obviously, Dean would assume they’d slept together; why else would Seth come home early in the morning smelling like him? How would Dean react if he found out that they hadn’t? Probably assume it wasn’t for lack of trying and that Seth had just been rejected. Neither assumption was one he was thrilled about Dean making, but that thought began to slip out of his mind as the wet heat of Dean’s mouth trailed lower, down his chest. Dean knew every trick to make Seth fall apart, and even with his brain humming with things he didn't want to think about, it was working.

“Mm, could I just slide right into you right now?” Dean was plainly not finished talking, though, which was still causing mixed feelings to squirm in Seth’s stomach, even as the fingers sliding under his waistband made his skin light up. “Bet he wrecked you, beautiful…”

Whatever Dean said next was too muffled by him trying to kiss and bite at Seth’s hips while still talking to be easily understood, and despite his migivings about the whole Roman thing, Seth knew Dean well enough to know what that meant. He pushed his hips up without even thinking about it, letting Dean slide the boxers, God, _Dean’s_ boxers, down to expose him. If Dean realised what Seth had been wearing, he didn't say anything, though that may have been because he was too preoccupied dragging his tongue and teeth over Seth’s hips and thighs. Seth let his hands settle on the back of Dean’s head, tangling his fingers into Dean’s hair. At this touch, Dean looked up, an almost smug looking grin playing at his lips.

“You gorgeous thing,” he began, and Seth could hear the promise of things to come in the growl of his voice. “I'm gonna -”

“I didn't fuck your boyfriend.” Seth couldn't explain why he felt the need to say that now, of all times, and he released Dean’s hair and threw an arm over his face, so he could neither see or be seen. He could feel himself flushing red with something, shame perhaps. He could feel Dean stop, hesitate, then, for some reason, chuckle deep in his throat.

“C’mon, you know you're my only boyfriend.”

Then Dean’s mouth was on him, taking him deep, and Seth couldn't really think to do anything except bury his fingers in his hair again and fall into the moment.

* * *

By the time Dean was curled up beside him again, head resting on Seth’s shoulder, Seth still hadn't managed to think of any kind of intelligent response to that. His heart was racing, and he stared resolutely at the ceiling rather than risk looking at the man wrapped around him. It was probably just a joke, just a way to make fun of what had transpired between Seth and Roman. It didn't mean anything. There was no reason to keep thinking about it, devoting brain space to a throwaway joke at his expense.

“Seth?” Dean's soft voice broke his train of thought. Seth realised for the first time the tension in his roommate’s frame, though he couldn't even begin to imagine where it came from. Dean’s fingers were twisting around a handful of blanket; that usually meant he was desperate for a smoke. “It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to.”

Right. Of course. Seth was being weird about it, so now they had to have a talk. Getting Dean to talk about feelings was on roughly the same level as getting him to clean when there wasn't an imminent reason to do so, or to study when there wasn't an exam on the horizon. He might acknowledge it was theoretically a good idea, but that didn't get him any closer to actually doing it. Before Seth's mind could really go into overdrive analysing Dean’s exact words, though, he went on.

“I know we’ve - you know what, two boyfriends is enough for anyone, you don't need - and they probably don't want -”

“What the fuck are you on about?” Seth found his voice, and his tone sounded a little rougher than he meant it to, trying to fire off all the words before his voice died in his throat. He chanced a quick look over at Dean, who didn't look any happier to be having the conversation than Seth would have expected. When he didn't seem willing to go on, a thought suddenly rose in Seth’s mind, treacherous though his mind could be, and he ventured, softly, “Dean, I don't - I'm not with Marek and Jimmy.”

His voice cracked a little as he spoke, and Dean made a soft hissing sound. The hand tangled in blanket drifted up and carefully draped over Seth, pulling him closer, like that was possible.

“Did they end things?” Blunt and to the point, which didn't help at all what Seth felt he had to say next.

“I did. But there was…” Nothing to end, as it turned out. But the rest of the words wouldn't come, and he covered his eyes with both hands so if he started to cry like he was afraid he might, at least Dean wouldn't have to see.

But then, there was a hand stroking his hair and pulling him in against Dean’s shoulder. Dean was making a soft shushing noise, like he always did when Seth got stupid and emotional, but he was there, and warm, and it certainly didn't _feel_ like there was any great judgement there. The only thing was a faint noise of understanding, like maybe he'd finally figured out why Seth had been such a shit lately. Couldn't really blame him for that.

Seth wasn't sure how long they lay there in that embrace while he first tried not to cry, then just sobbed into Dean’s shoulder. Dean just held him, whispering something Seth couldn't make out, until his warmth took over the emotion and Seth looked weakly up at him, a smile just breaking into his expression.

“You ignored my calls when _you_ were with Roman.”

“That's different.”

It was absolutely, definitely in no way different, but Seth wasn't going to argue with the faintly indignant look on his boyfriend’s - could he say that now? Was that what they were? - face. He leaned over to kiss the look away instead, not quite game to put that thought into words.

When they parted, Dean saved him the trouble of asking by murmuring softly, “You might not have them but you've still got one.” He paused, then looked up, adding as though as an afterthought, “If you want.”

Not trusting himself with words, Seth just nodded shyly. For a moment, Dean smiled back, but it was broken by an elbow planting in Seth’s ribs and Dean wriggling over him out of the bed.

“Since someone woke me, I'm getting up. You wanna go get a coffee or something?”

“Pretty sure I threw most of mine on Roman’s sweater,” Seth said, gesturing to the floor. It was still early, and he was exhausted, but… boyfriend. It sent a thrill through him in a way that having Marek and Jimmy never had. “But it was just a standard latte, so….”

Dean laughed at him as he batted his eyelashes.

“You want to me to bring you one back,” he said, grinning, and without questioning it. “Alright, I guess, I mean, at least I know your order.”

And he did, Seth thought - he did know his order, he knew why a latte was a bad thing, he knew when to push and when to leave Seth alone, knew all his soft spots and all the things that turned him on. Dean knew him better than anyone else in the world, and Seth, looking at him as he was, outlined in the sunlight coming from behind the curtains, wondered why it had taken him so long to realise that Dean might be something he wanted.

“Yeah,” he said, softly, “you do.”

  
When Dean left the room, Seth heard him whistling in the stairwell, before a faint ‘oh fuck’ broke the happy tune as Dean probably tripped over a step or dropped his wallet. He rolled over, buried his face in the pillow that still smelled of Dean, and closed his eyes, alone but also not, in a way he’d never felt before. He let his eyes fall shut. His boyfriend would wake him up with coffee.

**Author's Note:**

> Note about tags: Seth seeks out an ex while sober with the intent of having sex with him; when it happens, he's drunk and doesn't enjoy it, and feels like he's consenting for the wrong reasons.


End file.
